


Empty Eyes & Empty Words, But Not Empty Hearts

by redroses100



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Angry Kissing, Angst, Canon Universe, Dissociation, Feelings Realization, Feels, Love/Hate, M/M, Not Beta Read, We Die Like Men, hatred is love in this ship, sorry for mistakes, tries to be in character, you all know I'm right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-23 02:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13777446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redroses100/pseuds/redroses100
Summary: There's something weird going on with Izaya and it's fair to say Shizuo is pissed off about it. But even he is having a hard time figuring out why it bothers him so much. Whelp, guess he's gotta scream at the flea to make himself feel better!





	Empty Eyes & Empty Words, But Not Empty Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> As i said in the tags, there's probably mistakes in this. editing is for squares so...yeah. plus i was frantically keyboard smashing this in order to get it done before work.   
> anyway, hope you enjoy!

It’s raining when Shizuo spots Izaya. On a fucking rooftop, of course, because the flea has an irresistible attraction to them apparently. It’s a stupid trait of his. But it being stupid doesn’t stop Shizuo from charging up the empty staircase of the dilapidated building. It doesn’t stop the blond from throwing open the door to the roof and huffing hard as his rage and confusion began to mix.

The rage is of course familiar. It’s there every time he sees Izaya. From the very first moment, when he looked at those red tinted eyes and saw someone who thought the pain of others was hilarious. A parasite who found it amusing to watch him beat the daylights out of a dozen students. Disgusting.

So yeah, the rage is an old friend at this point. The confusion on the other hand, that’s new. And unpleasant. And it only grows as Shizuo growls in his chest and Izaya doesn’t even flinch, even though there’s no way he missed Shizuo’s entrance.

“Oi! Flea!” Shizuo snarls, stalking closer to the motionless raven. He’s ignored. Nothing but the sound of the rain splattering harshly around them answers him. And it’s fucking infuriating. “Hey, I-za-ya-kun, you fucking deaf?”

He reaches out and tugs on Izaya’s arm, surprised by how easily the informant gives into the pull. He’s like a lifeless doll under Shizuo’s force. And when the blond snatches his hand away, the doll crumples at his feet and doesn’t move. Just sits there, head bowed to stare at the roof beneath them.

“What the fuck is wrong with you flea?” Shizuo’s starting to feel weird now. Not completely angry, or completely confused, or even 100% wary. It’s something else. Something creeping up his spine uncomfortably the longer Izaya slouches on the ground before him. It doesn’t feel right. Nothing ever does with Izaya, but this feels extra not-right.

So it’s only natural for Shizuo to crouch down and grab the raven by his face to point it up towards his own. If Izaya’s not going to acknowledge him, then he’s going to make him!

The informant’s eyes are open, but they aren’t looking at him. They’re pointed to the side, glazed and seeing something far away. They’re blank in the same way the rest of his face is. The rest of his body too.

This is weird. Everything about this…it’s just fucking weird. And Shizuo doesn’t know what kind of game or trick Izaya is playing. But he’s never been very smart, and sitting here in the rain trying to figure it out could literally take all night.

And he’s cold, but not nearly as cold as Izaya. The man’s face is like ice in his palm. He’s shivering so hard it makes Shizuo ache to think about it. It’s not good. He knows that much.

“I’m taking you home.” He tells Izaya. The man blinks, but no trace of recognition crosses his face. Shizuo growls and first searches the raven for weapons. He only finds one knife, which he tucks into his own breast pocket for safe keeping. And then he pulls Izaya up and lifts him over his shoulder. There’s no resistance from the flea. No signs of life at all, except for the slow shudders of his breathing.

He stays like that the entire walk to Shizuo’s apartment. It’s far too late for them to take a train. Even if Shizuo was brave enough to bring the apparently comatose body of Izaya Orihara on the train, it’s too late. And he’s not walking to Shinjuku just to drop off the damn parasite. So he goes to his apartment instead.

It feels like he’s inviting disease into his home. He’s nearly sure that the second he locks his door, Izaya will wriggle off his shoulder and be ready to cause mayhem. A cackle and swift kick to the gut would serve him right for allowing this scum in his space.

But it doesn’t come. Izaya is so still. Even when Shizuo lets him fall to the ground in the entryway, the man is still.

The word he was missing earlier is starting to take form in his mind. Concern. And it’s so much worse than the confusion he was feeling. He wants to slam his face into the wall for even __considering__ that he might be __concerned__ for Izaya fucking Orihara! But a dent in the walls is the last thing he needs.

He settles for digging his fingers hard into Izaya’s shoulder instead. He shakes the man, he yells in his face. The raven blinks and looks a little dizzy from the shaking. But otherwise nothing happens. Shizuo grunts unhappily, rubbing his face and seriously trying to decide if he should call Shinra.

But what would he tell the aspiring doctor? That he found Izaya on a rooftop and instead of giving the raven a push, he’s brought the unresponsive man into his home? Shinra would be more worried about Shizuo’s mental health than Izaya’s! Hell, Shizuo’s pretty worried about his own mental health too. What the fuck is he thinking?

Whatever he’s thinking, he can’t just leave Izaya curled up by the doorway in soaking wet clothes. He hoists the raven up, carries him to the bathroom, and sets him in the tub. Then comes the hard part.

Scratch that, the unbearable part. Because peeling clothes off of his mortal enemy hovers somewhere around ‘take a knife to the eyeball’ and ‘get severe food poisoning’ on his To-Don’t List. Yet here he is.

It’s a struggle to wrestle the unresponsive, far too fragile feeling limbs from Izaya’s wet clothes. Shizuo feels like taking a shower himself by the time he’s stripped the last of the raven’s things off of him. He just feels filthy. But with a sigh he starts to run the hot water and makes sure that Izaya isn’t going to sink under before taking the informant’s clothes to hang with the laundry he has drying in his room.

Shizuo doesn’t realize he’s hurrying to do it, and to change out of his clothes too. But by the time he’s sliding back into the bathroom to check on Izaya, he’s out of breath from how fast he was trying to get things done. Not that he needed to. His begrudging house guest is still exactly as he left him. Shizuo frowns.

“I should call Shinra.” He mumbles to himself, but doesn’t inch from where he stands in the doorway to do so. Instead he finds himself walking forward. Then kneeling at the side of the tub. Then hesitantly reaching out to touch the lifeless face of the man in his tub. “What’s wrong with you?” He whispers.

Izaya blinks. Turns into his hand. Blinks again when Shizuo whips away from the action. But there’s no sign that the raven has even processed the event, let alone done it on purpose. So he slowly reaches back out, curling his hand around a slowly warming cheek.

“You’re fucking scaring me, Izaya.” Shizuo finds himself muttering. It’s embarrassing, but it’s the truth. He doesn’t know what to make of any of this. He never in a million years anticipated anything like this happening. But it’s impossible to deny that it’s real. Izaya is real beneath his touch. Unless this is yet another weird abnormality of Ikebukuro, it’s definitely Izaya.

Shizuo would know him anywhere. He’s hated the raven for so long. He knows every part of him, almost as well as he knows himself. This is definitely the flea. But, at the same time, it is definitely not.

He sits there for what has to be an hour. He washes Izaya. He rinses him. When the water loses it’s warmth, he lifts him from the tub and carries him wrapped in a towel to his own bed. With his only other option being the couch, he keeps Izaya wrapped up beside him and settles down for the night. Before he falls asleep, he even vaguely registers pulling the informant in to fit snug against his chest.

It’s fucking weird. But…it’s not horrible. That actually has to be the weirdest part of it.

Shizuo…doesn’t hate it. He doesn’t hate being curled around a naked Izaya Orihara. His every thought protests it. But it’s only the truth. He doesn’t hate it. There’s some part of Izaya that he doesn’t hate.

Not that it matters, of course. The small peace that’s bloomed between them can never overshadow the years of hatred and bitterness that have been planted and nourished so well. So it doesn’t matter if Shizuo holds him a bit closer. Or breathes in the scent of his own shampoo in the raven’s hair. Or hopes to all things he can think of that, come morning, Izaya will be okay.

It doesn’t matter, because he still hates Izaya.

But maybe just…not completely.

 

It feels like a dream in the morning. It would be easy to pass it off as a dream as well. There’s no trace of Izaya left in his apartment. His clothes are gone. His body is gone. The melancholy feelings of last night have even evaporated into thin air.

Part of him tries to convince himself that it’s best he just forget. That he write it off as a fever dream caused by the chilly rain. But he remembers the vacant stare he’d faced down the night before. And he remembers the comforting warmth of Izaya’s body in his arms as he fell asleep. And he can’t forget.

Instead he gets up, pulls on the first set of clothes he can find. And he goes looking for the flea.

He checks a few places in Ikebukuro first. The big ones- like Russia Sushi and Sunshine 60. But after only an hour, he gets on a train to Shinjuku and impatiently taps his foot the entire journey. It’s a relief- for both Shizuo and the nervous commuters- when the train arrives in Shinjuku Station.

The blond knows his way to Izaya’s apartment by heart. He’s never been inside, but he’s come to stand in the street and yell threats at Izaya’s penthouse dozens of times. The doorman even seems to recognize him when he charges inside. If the sweating is any indication, he definitely remembers him.

A young couple at the elevator sees him coming and scatters down the hall. Shizuo presses the already lit up button, and waits exactly thirty-six seconds for the doors to open and let him on. He jabs the top floor button so hard it nearly cracks under the force. Nearly.

Izaya’s doorknob is not so lucky. It crushes instantly, letting him shove the door open practically without hesitation. And there’s Izaya, looking surprised and completely normal and everything he was not last night.

“Shizu-chan.” He murmurs, staring intently at the blond who slams his door and stands menacingly in his living room.

“You wanna tell me what the fuck is going on, flea?” Shizuo growls. It’s so easy to growl at Izaya. He never seems even the least bit intimidated. And he doesn’t now either. It could almost be refreshing, if it didn’t remind him so much of how absolutely blank he was last night.

“Funny, I was about to ask you the same question.” Izaya drawls, carefully closing the file in his hands and standing to saunter around his desk.

“Don’t play dumb, you shit! What the fuck was last night about, huh? What the hell was wrong with you?” He demands, stalking froward. Izaya doesn’t flinch, but he does grow tense in a way that is far more revealing. It speaks of a vulnerability that’s not completely back under his control. It’ll probably be gone in a few more hours, but for now it’s a crack in the mask the informant wears so well.

“Why Shizu-chan. You almost sound like you were worried.” Izaya crows, but it lacks the full drama he’s normally able to deliver. Instead it sounds guarded. Afraid, almost. Shizuo growls, getting close enough to see the dark shadows smudged under Izaya’s crimson tinted eyes.

“You can pretend all you want.” He hisses at the raven, who raises an eyebrow almost curiously. Tipping in a little further, Shizuo gets his hands planted on the edge of Izaya’s desk to either side of sharp hips. It’s a cage for the smaller man, and he must know it. Must be able to feel his own captivity. But he doesn’t so much as blink, or glance to the side to watch Shizuo seal him him. But he does lean back ever so slightly so he’s almost sitting on his desk.

“I’m afraid I’m not following.” He lies. He’s the smartest person in the room- always has been. He’s the one who always has the full deck of cards in his hand. But Shizuo has the trump card this time, and he’s gonna damn well use it.

“You know, you’re not nearly as insufferable when you’re not talking. I think, for a moment or two, you can even be cute. If you want to. If you stop running your mouth.” He smirks a little when Izaya’s face twists into a scowl. It’s always been like this with them. They can only be happy when the other is angry. And Shizuo is ready to be fucking ecstatic. “In fact, you’re downright adorable when you silently snuggle into my palm.”

He curls said palm around Izaya’s cheek, the way he had last night. For half a second he waits for the raven to turn into his touch the way he did then too. But Izaya’s eyes only widen and he jerks his face away with a snarl that is so much more recognizably Izaya. It’s both a relief and an irritation.

“Don’t touch me, monster.” He spits, shoving at Shizuo’s chest. The blond hardly feels the sharp resistance. He snatches Izaya by his jaw, holding that pale little face pointed towards his own.

“So are you gonna fucking talk? Or should I reminisce about the other stuff too? Like how you curled up so nicely in bed with me and-”

“Shut up!” Izaya yells, almost desperately, digging his nails into Shizuo’s shoulder and wrist. “Just fucking let me go! I’m not talking about anything until you get the fuck away from me!”

He debates it. He thinks about forcing Izaya. He probably could. For the first time possibly ever, he has the upper hand. He has the raven cornered and where he wants him, and very clearly distressed. It’s the perfect recipe for a successful power play that would probably feel very satisfying.

But he doesn’t, because he’s still trying to wrap his mind around everything that happened last night, and this morning too. He’s not sure he’d be able to comprehend, much less enjoy, that level of victory when he’s still playing catch up.

So he backs off, straightens from his predatory lean and releases the tense jaw in his hands. He doesn’t go far, only putting about a foot of air between them. But it’s enough.

Izaya recovers fast, he always has. Before Shizuo’s eyes the cornered animal in front of him turns back into the man who knows everything, and isn’t afraid to tell you that he knows everything. The mask slides into place with a smirk that drives Shizuo’s blood pressure through the roof. He hates it. Hates Izaya. But he doesn’t, at the same time.

Because now he knows that it’s just a mask. An act. He’s seen other sides of Izaya now- both the blank puppet and the scared creature. It’s hard to completely hate him when he’s seen even a fraction of the violent network of cracks hidden beneath that polished surface. It makes Izaya more human. Less detestable.

But that doesn’t make his tone any lighter when he scoffs an antagonistic, “So are you gonna fucking talk?” at the raven.

Izaya takes a deep breath in, tries to hide it beneath the taunting smirk curling at the corners of his lips. He’s so good at this- at pretending. And instead of just pissing Shizuo off, that actually aches somewhere deep inside of him too. It means Izaya is well versed in this charade. It means he’s been doing it for long enough that it’s just second nature at this point.

“Honestly, there’s no need to get so worked up, Shizu-chan.” He purrs finally, tilting his face down so he can look up at the blond through his eyelashes and cast the shadows of condescension across his face. “I was simply experiencing a complex dissociative state. It happens often, just not normally with an audience.”

“You mean you do that a lot? Stand blankly on the edge of a building?” Shizuo huffs, not savoring the idea. What if Izaya had fallen? Would he have even realized he was falling?

“When you say it like that it doesn’t sound nearly as poetic.” Izaya drawls, lifting a shoulder is a casual shrug. “But, for the sake of argument, yes.” Shizuo wants to laugh and remind the raven that he practically lives to create arguments with the blond. But he has bigger things to worry about.

“Why?”

“Google it, Shizu-chan. I don’t feel like explaining complicated psychological phenomena to you.” Izaya sighs, trying to side step away and slide out from between Shizuo and his desk. He doesn’t even make it to a second step.

The blond immediately has him by his neck and is driving the scrawny man back a handful of meters to the windows lining the the wall. When Izaya’s back hits firm against the pane of glass, he arches a little and hisses. Shizuo’s other hand comes up to plant against the frosty surface of the window and lend a little stability to his body as he pins Izaya there with his grip at his throat and his leg between the raven’s.

“I don’t think you get it, I-za-ya-kun.” Shizuo rumbles into his captive’s ear. Izaya’s face turns away from him, but the blond only leans in closer so his lips are nearly touching the curve of his ear. “I’m not asking. You’re gonna tell me, or you’re gonna find yourself on the edge of another building. But…not for very long.”

He lets more his limitless strength press hard into the palm he has against the glass. But just hard enough to let it creak and moan, and maybe start to shudder with tension as Izaya’s breathing drags fast and heavy against his hold on the man’s neck.

“Fuck- just, don’t-” Izaya scrambles to get a hold on him, curling one of his claws into the front of Shizuo’s shirt and the other around the wrist of the hand that’s very nearly choking the air out of him. Izaya’s grip is tight, fully believing that Shizuo will do. That he’ll break the window and Izaya will be falling to his death moments later. The fear is painted across his face and in his hold on the blond. “Don’t Shizu-”

“Then talk.” Shizuo deadpans, easing his strength a bit so the window stops it’s very evident protest. Izaya doesn’t relax though. He’s too smart to relax.

“Fuck…about what? I told you why I was like that.”

“For someone who calls me a moron all the time, you’re giving me an awful lot of credit here.” Shizuo sneers. “Spell it out for me, Izaya. Educate the dumb monster on your particular brand of crazy.” He orders.

Izaya looks like he’s struggling. Both with the visceral fear of death at Shizuo’s hands, and the shameful reality of defeat- both physically and mentally. It should be a glorious moment for Shizuo. He should feel really proud and even excited. He’s finally beat Izaya, after all. And there’s no question that he has indeed won.

But he doesn’t feel satisfied. Instead all he can do is get more and more impatient as Izaya continues to fight with himself and with Shizuo.

“Well?!” He snarls into that pinched expression of loathing.

Izaya cringes away, but there’s nowhere for him to go. Which makes him even more manic and hostile. “Fuck! What do you want from me Shizuo?! Why do you care?!”

Shizuo doesn’t have an answer for him. Doesn’t even feel as strong as he did only seconds ago. His thoughts are distracted by the shape of his name on those toxic lips- his real name. Spat in a moment of panic, but that’s what makes it hit harder. It’s like a sucker punch of emotion that he never anticipated from Izaya.

“Stop this. For fuck’s sake, stop.” Izaya steels his tone into a demand, but his eyes are pleading. It’s even more of a shock- to think than any part of Izaya could be humble enough to beg.

There’s sides to every human, Shizuo’s always known that. It’s one of the reasons Izaya calls him a monster- since for all appearances Shizuo doesn’t have sides. He’s just a being of rage and violence. But he’s always had more to him. Just like Izaya has always had more to him, beneath the sadism that reeks and leaves a trail through his city on a weekly, or sometimes daily basis.

They’re both more human than the other has always assumed.

“I’m not gonna kill you.” Shizuo finally grunts, and drops his hand from it’s threatening place on the glass to prove it. He holds Izaya’s hip instead, like he needed another point of contact to keep the man completely pinned in place. “But I’m not letting you go. Not until you tell me what’s going on with you.”

“It’s none of your business.” Izaya snarls.

“I coulda left you on a rooftop in the rain last night, but I took you home and made sure you were warm and safe instead.” He reminds the raven. This only seems to make Izaya angrier.

“I didn’t ask for your help!” His sharp little talons dig into Shizuo’s skin so hard they almost hurt him. He grits his teeth and ignores the sting.

“And I didn’t ask to be tormented by you for years. Guess life ain’t fair to either of us.” He deadpans, watching the way Izaya’s face shudders on resignation for a moment before sharpening back to anger. “Look, I don’t want your fucking biography here. Just tell me what the fuck a dissociative state even is.”

The raven holds his gaze for a long moment, stubbornness clinging to him almost worse than it clings to Shizuo. But the blond knows Izaya is already beaten. And he knows he won the second he decided to take Izaya home with him last night. So it’s only a matter of waiting.

And his waiting pays off. Watching Izaya break is both the best and worst thing he’s ever witnessed. Feeling the body in front of him sag with exhaustion and seeing crimson tinted eyes disappear behind tight shut lids is stunning. And horrifying. Surrender is never easy to bear, he knows that. But he never thought it would be just as unbearable to witness as it is to experience.

“It’s being detached from reality.” Izaya finally admits in a bland voice that holds none of his usual lilts or purrs. “There’s different forms but, when a person dissociates they’re always separate from reality in some way. Most everyone does it at some point. Even you, I’m sure, when you’re bored. Or when you’re imagining killing me.”

“Like daydreams?” Shizuo huffs, not quite buying that something so simple could be responsible for the lifeless doll he took care of last night.

“Daydreams are a form of dissociation, yes. A mild form. Like most psychological phenomena, it’s a spectrum with several layers of severity.” Izaya still hasn’t opened his eyes. Shizuo half wonders if he’s trying to dissociate now. It makes a growl drift up from his chest.

“You said yours was severe.” He reminds the raven, who grimaces.

“Such an attentive beast.” He murmurs, but continues before Shizuo can bitch at him. “There’s different forms, as I said. I experience depersonalization and derealization on a fairly regular basis. Depersonalization affects my sense of self, and derealization affects my perception of the world.”

The words are foreign to Shizuo. Hell, most of what Izaya is saying sounds like something out of science-fiction. But there’s honesty in the tired tone Izaya uses to explain. And in the defeat Shizuo has had to wait so very long for.

It’s still confusing though, even if it is the truth. “Your sense of self and your perception of the world?”

Izaya sighs again, and tips his head to the side like he’s tired of holding it up. “Imagine, if you can- I know it’s hard for a primitive protozoan like yourself, but try anyways. Imagine that you’re under a lot of stress. Or a lot of fear. Maybe you’re even trying to avoid the memory of a past trauma. In that moment, it would be nice to dissociate from the harsh reality of your inner or outer turmoil and just exist in a blank slate, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, like daydreams.” Shizuo repeats. A little life returns to the man in his grasp, but it’s only enough to drive a frustrated noise from his throat.

“No, you dumb ape. Daydreams are a voluntary and mild form of dissociation. The depersonalization disorder I deal with is not voluntary. It’s…it…” The frustration melts away as fast as it appeared, leaving exhaustion on Izaya’s face instead. “It’s a coping mechanism. Or that’s how it started at least.”

Shizuo isn’t sure why he shifts his hand to cup the side of Izaya’s face. He’s not even aware he’s doing it until he catches sight of the movement of his thumb sweeping back and forth across the raven’s sharp cheekbone. But this time Izaya isn’t pulling away from it. So Shizuo doesn’t either.

“What’s it like?” He asks, intrigued and concerned in equal measure.

Izaya’s face scrunches up again. The blond can’t tell if it’s anger, or fear. Either way he spreads his thumb to the side to drift down the the smaller man’s nose and soothe the upset wrinkles that pucker between his brows.

“It’s terrifying. I don’t…I never know how bad it’s going to be. Whether I’m just going to feel stuck in my head and like an observer in my own body, looking on as I say and do things out of my control. Or if I’m going to be completely overwhelmed and left totally hollow- sometimes unaware of what’s happening around me, and sometimes aware but not able to interact at all.” He cringes here, turning his face from Shizuo’s touch at last.

The blond lets his hand fall to Izaya’s chest instead, keeping him anchored in place but without the threat of suffocation.

“Like last night.” Shizuo rumbles. Izaya nods. “So you basically turn into a doll, and sometimes you realize it but sometimes you don’t. And there’s other times that you’re not even in control of what your body is doing?” He sums up.

“Yes.” The informant whispers, shame heavy on the word. “It wasn’t always like this. Wasn’t always so drastic or…so frequent.”

“How long have you-”

“Since I was a child. Long before I met you.” Izaya interrupts him, but Shizuo can’t find it in himself to be angry.

He’s so far from angry that the lack of frustration is actually sparking frustration. It’s a weird situation.

He’s still confused, definitely. He’s never experienced anything like what Izaya is describing. He’s not even particularly good at daydreaming. And he’s never questioned who he is or why he is. He takes things at face value, always. Which definitely hasn’t been helpful when it comes to Izaya.

Face value for the raven is a cocky, sadistic bastard who is always sure of himself. And beneath that is so much fear and distress that Shizuo himself is starting to get scared for Izaya. Which is irritating. Because he’s so bitter with Izaya still, and he remembers every moment of rage the raven has caused, and yet it’s all paling in comparison to the concern prodding insistently at his mind.

“Fuck.” He hisses, both at himself and the small man in his grasp.

“Are you satisfied now?” Izaya mutters, pushing at Shizuo’s chest with a strength he didn’t think the raven still possessed. It’s still not even close to sufficient to move the immovable Beast of Ikebukuro. But it’s surprising enough that Shizuo’s instantly whipping his hands up to squeeze tight around Izaya’s wrists and pin them back to the cold window.

“No.” He growls, because this is all fucked up and he’s not satisfied at all, he’s fucking pissed and worried and he’s pissed about being worried. It’s a mess and he only has one person he can let it out on. And he’s gonna.

“What the fuck are you thinking? You run around creating grudges with every damn person in this city and mine, when at any moment you could turn into the most compliant victim in Tokyo! Do you want to die? Do you want someone to kill you because they hate you and you can’t defend yourself?”

Izaya’s eyes are wide open now, staring at him with the shock he’s used to seeing from other people when he lifts vending machines and rips up stop signs.

He’s never been able to surprise Izaya. This isn’t exactly how he wanted to accomplish it.

“N-No…” Izaya murmurs.

“You’re a goddamn asshole who everyone and their mother wants to see rotting in the street, and it damn well is gonna happen one of these days! Fuck, you’re not even sure you’re really you all of the time! You can’t actually think you’re gonna survive on good luck for the rest of your miserable life!”

“Stop it-”

“Hell, I should’ve pushed you off the building last night, not pulled you down. It would’ve been a nicer fate than what most would give you if they had the chance. What do you think the Yakuza would do if they found you totally blank in an ally? Or the color gangs you like to play with? How about the various supernatural freaks we’ve got running around? Don’t fucking tell me you haven’t thought about it!”

“Of course I have, I-”

“Then you just don’t care, huh? Fuck, you know what, that’s fine for you and all, but what about the other people in the city? The ones who depend on you, like your sisters and your secretary! What do you think would happen to them if you just vanished into your mind; then vanished all together?”

“What do you want me to do then, Shizuo?!” Izaya finally snarls, managing to stop the stream of bitter words flowing like a tap from the ex-bartender. “I’m sure you’d love it if I locked myself away to hide for the rest of my slowly dwindling existence, but fuck that! And fuck you! I’m not cutting myself off from the world! I’m not going back to being alone!”

He seems to realize what he’s said the moment after he says it, a horror coming over his face the second the angry scream escapes. Shizuo is left blinking at him dumbly as the words process.

“Alone.” It’s almost funny how confusing of a concept it is for Shizuo. He’s always had Kasuka, after all. And once he started school, he always had Shinra. And Celty. And Tom. Hell, there are others too, when he thinks about it. Kadota, Ericka, Walker, Saboro. Vorona, Chikage, even Simon and Denis! They’re all people he can rely on, or call on if he needs help. Or if he just needs someone to talk to.

He’s never thought about it before, but Izaya is actually the exact opposite. Shizuo knows he has a wide net, a whole fucking infrastructural running through Tokyo and probably further. But no one he can really call a friend. No one he can call on for anything- big or little. He’s stuck relying on himself, and he’s made due.

Shizuo knows all of this. But he never really thought about it until now.

“You’re not alone.” He mumbles, though he’s not sure if he’s trying to comfort the informant, or if he’s just trying to argue. Either way, Izaya only scoffs a dry laugh in reply. “Your sisters-”

“Hate me. Before you suggest it, so do my parents. I’m not exactly son of the year.” His crimson eyes roll in a show of derision. But Shizuo has to think that he’s just doing it to keep the moisture from building up too high in his eyes.

“Your secretary-”

“Would be thrilled if I wound up dead. Especially if it was from something as stupid as this.” Izaya dismisses without even managing to sound upset. The acceptance is so much worse to hear.

“Fuck Izaya.” He growls. Shizuo knows that the anger is only superficial at this point. It’s just a mask for the foreign feelings that keep jumping out at him from all sides. But it’s also the only thing keeping him from completely breaking character right now- which he would never forgive himself for if he did.

This whole shitty situation is beginning to twist his own sense of self. Does he hate Izaya or pity him? Does he want to crush the flea or help him? Can he do both? Should he even be trying?

“Maybe you were right, Shizu-chan.” The informant drawls at him when the silence stretches too thin. Shizuo glares down at the lifeless smirk on Izaya’s face.

“About what?”

“Maybe subconsciously I do want to die. And that’s why I went up to that rooftop when I felt it starting last night.” The raven is so calm as he speaks. Calm, resigned, and weary. Shizuo’s blood boils. “I surround myself with my perfectly imperfect humans, and I give my love unselfishly. But they still hate me. I can go be among them every single day, but I’m still alone.”

“Shut up.” Shizuo growls. He’s ignored.

“Locking myself away wouldn’t change a thing really. I don’t think anyone would even notice. And I would still feel the exact same as I do now, just less scared of dissociating in public.” His voice starts to dip with emotion. It’s intolerable.

“I said shut up!”

“But I’d rather die than do that, you know. I’m not gonna be a damsel in a castle. So maybe my mind shut down and my body took control to take me where it knew I wanted to go. Funny, how our bodies can betray us. Or I guess, is it a betrayal if it’s trying to be helpful?”

“I-za-ya-kun-”

“And it’s not like anyone would miss me.”

Shizuo snaps. And it takes him a bit to even realize that he’s snapped. Because he’s still glaring at Izaya, but now those red eyes are way closer to his own. And he’s still got his fists clenched tight around Izaya’s wrists, but now he’s using the hold to pull instead of push on the informant. It’s such a little change- or a couple little changes- but suddenly everything in the picture is different.

Because he’s still Shizuo, and this is still Izaya. But at the same time, they’re completely different people. Completely different people who are kissing the same way that they fight. Angry and confusing and charged and Shizuo isn’t sure why this hasn’t happened before!

It’s hardly the first time they’ve gotten into each others faces. And it’s definitely not the first time the line has been pushed a little too far and one of them snaps. But to snap so hard that his first instinct is to shut Izaya up with a kiss? It has to be a new low.

At least it’s effective. The silence is a relief. But it comes at the cost of confusion and bitterness and a squirming informant trapped beneath his hands and his mouth.

Finally Izaya manages to break away, his lips a warm red and shining with Shizuo’s spit. A growl rumbles through the blond’s throat that for once has nothing to do with irritation.

“W-What the fuck are you-”

“You’re not fucking alone, Izaya.” He repeats, but now with conviction. Now he actually believes the words. “I hate you. Too much to let you think- even subconsciously- about killing yourself before I get to do it. So you’re not alone, because you have me and my hatred.” Shizuo states, somewhat proud of himself for being able to string words together. And they’re pretty decent words too! He smirks at the stunned look on the flea’s face.

Izaya clearly isn’t used to being the one who’s running behind. He just stands there, looking helplessly lost and kiss drunk and fuck it-

Shizuo bites down when he gets Izaya’s lip between his teeth. A whine rises in the raven’s throat. His back arches and presses their chests together. And his hands twist and pull against their prisons. But Shizuo’s hold is like iron. And his kiss is an insistent force that demands Izaya’s submission.

“Don’t you ever fucking say you want to die again, do you hear me? I’m the only one who gets to wish for you to be dead. You’re mind to kill, only mine.” Shizuo hisses when he pulls back from the swelling lips that he can’t quite keep his eyes off of.

“You’re fucking nuts. A damn psycho.” Izaya mumbles, eyes still comically wide and mouth blooming with red.

“Yeah well, takes one to know one.” Shizuo decides easily, leaning in towards the flea’s mouth again. Izaya turns away, makes a noise like a whimper and a groan when Shizuo isn’t deterred and latches onto his neck instead.

“Stop it.” He gasps. “You hate me. You just wrote a fucking sonnet about it, remember.”

“I do hate you. I hate everything about you. What you do to people. What you act like and smell like. I hate seeing you when you’re smirking and proud.” The way he talks, you’d think he’s actually trying to write a poem. Or maybe trying to be romantic. Izaya’s scrunched up face certainly makes it seem like that. “But you know something? I hated seeing you completely blank even more. And I hate the thought of someone else coming across you in that state the most.”

“I can’t exactly control it you ass.” Izaya snarls. The hostile noise tapers off into a low, hurt keen when Shizuo sinks his teeth into the pale skin of his neck.

“You’ll learn to. I’ll make fucking sure you do.” The blond decides easily. He knows it won’t be that simple. The look on Izaya’s face practically screams it. But Shizuo only smirks and takes hold of that pointed chin to keep the flea still so he can kiss him again.

He’s let one of Izaya’s wrists go, and honestly he’s expecting a slap. Or maybe a thumb to his eye socket. But the informant must still be playing catch up, because his hand just rests at his side for a long time as Shizuo tastes and sucks and bites, completely consuming his mouth. And when he does seem to realize he has a hand free, all it does is reach up to clutch at the blond’s shirt, anchoring himself with the only thing available.

For how intolerable Izaya is, Shizuo can’t seem to stop kissing him. Every time he pulls away from the raven, he looks at his hooded eyes and swollen lips and how heavy his breathing has become, and he’s drawn right back in. He’s sure there’s a lot of sexual tension that’s been brewing since high school to blame for this.

He can’t care about that right now. Not when has more important- more fucking attractive things to worry about.

Shizuo can’t help but wonder if Izaya would stay this pliant and accepting if he threw the flea over his shoulder right now and carried him off to the depths of this apartment. Would the informant cling to the anger and hatred they’ve used as weapons for so long, or would his defeat linger long enough to let everything between them change?

And everything would change, if they did it. Hell, everything is different already, just from making out. Shizuo knows it. They’re not gonna be able to go back to what they were. The blond knows too much about Izaya now. And Izaya knows that Shizuo has recently become addicted to his mouth. If he told anyone-

The blond pulls away abruptly, his mind smacking him over the head with all the common sense he’s been lacking for about the last twenty hours of his life. And more particularly, the last twenty minutes. He’s so fucking stupid.

“Hey.” He grunts at the dazed looking creature in his grasp. Izaya blinks himself back to attention, looking up at Shizuo through the dark of his eyelashes, probably not even aware of how much Shizuo wants to fuck him against a window right now.

Which is exactly the problem. He’s Shizuo Heiwajima! It goes against everything he is- everything he’s always been- to even entertain the fantasy of fucking with Izaya Orihara. It’s disgusting. But he wants it. Badly. And that’s why he’s gotta put his foot down.

“How shitty are you gonna be about this?” He rubs his thumb across Izaya’s kiss bruised lips as if to explain what he means. But the informant still looks confused. “Are you gonna tell everyone? Or just the ones who pay the right price?” Shizuo sneers when Izaya merely blinks up at him.

He blinks a few more times, his red eyes slowly hardening to ice. “You fucker.” He mumbles, probably meaning to keep it to himself. Shizuo frowns, and opens his mouth to give an equally scathing assessment of Izaya’s personality.

And promptly loses the words when Izaya’s sharp knuckles collide with his windpipe.

It may be the first time Izaya’s landed a physical hit on him with his own hand, but that being said, the raven doesn’t shy away from using his full strength. He doesn’t underestimate Shizuo, because he already knows just how much it takes to really hit him. Which is smart, but bad for Shizuo, who has to stumble away a few steps, coughing as his throat burns.

Izaya follows him, eyes now in full flames. He aims a kick at Shizuo’s knee, glancing off of it when the blond jerks out of the way. Unfortunately Izaya has always been the faster of the two of them, and while Shizuo is still trying to recover from the punch and from dodging the kick, Izaya comes back with another.

It’s not as hard as it could be, that much the blond knows. It’s enough to make the debt collector drop to his knees. And the informant adds insult to injury with another kick, this one to his stomach, driving him back so Izaya can plop down on his chest.

The raven’s knees dig into Shizuo’s upper arms, pinning him like an insect to a cork board. But to be honest, it’s Izaya’s eyes that are keeping him still, not really his weight. The flea has always been skinny, it wouldn’t exactly be difficult to throw him off and get him subdued again. But Shizuo doesn’t. He just glares up at Izaya while his throat throbs in time with his pulse.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? You charge in here like you have any right putting your fucking nose in my business. And you follow it up with ridiculous claims of ownership over me. Oh, and let’s not forget the forcing yourself on me. And after all that, you think you can fucking insult me?” The informant is positively seething, fists clenching hard in Shizuo’s hair as he curves over the blond.

Shizuo scoffs hard, very nearly rolling his eyes. But that would be too much like Izaya for his comfort.

“Yeah, such an insult. Not like it’s your fucking job to sell information to the highest bidder or anything. Not like you’ve been a fucking ruthless snake since the moment I met you, either. It’s so horrible of me to assume you’d be fucking jazzed to have this kind of thing to hold over my head.”

“I’m not!” Izaya yells, a few strands of blond hair coming loose under how tight he pulls Shizuo’s hair. “I don’t want to hold anything over your head! We’ve always been fucking equals, without the need for blackmail! Why would I want to fuck up the playing field like that?!”

He really doesn’t understand the way Izaya’s brain works. But whatever. “Well excuse me for doubting that you had anything resembling a moral code!”

“Fuck you Shizu-chan!”

He snaps again. And this time when he realizes it, he’s hovering over the agitated raven, in nearly the same way Izaya was just on him. But he keeps his knees on either side of Izaya’s hips, not eager to accidentally break bones with his absentminded force. It leaves him pinning the little shit down with his hands instead. One in that mop of dark hair, and the other pressed hard against his sternum.

“For the record, I’d be the one fucking you.” Shizuo rumbles, very intently ignoring the hardness between his legs. Izaya does not ignore it, flicking a nervous gaze down before he starts to fight with a new vengeance. Shizuo is scratched a few times too many before he manages to collect those scrawny wrists in one of his palms to pin above Izaya’s head.

“Get off of me!” He snarls.

“We’re not done yet!” Shizuo sneers right back. “Not until you agree to fix your fucking issues. ‘Cuz I’m not letting you get fucking killed purely out of shitty stubbornness!”

“I’ve survived up to this point! Don’t fucking assume I’ll die so easily!”

“Jesus Christ, don’t you want to get better? Didn’t you say you were scared of this thing?! Why won’t you do anything about it?!” Shizuo demands, pressing in a little harder than strictly necessary against Izaya’s wrists. The raven grimaces, probably both at the tight hold and the question.

“Yeah, because it’s that simple! You’re obviously an expert!”

“So educate me then! Why won’t you do anything about it? What makes it so difficult?”

“Because I don’t care!” They both fall silent as Izaya’s shout echoes around the room. It’s another something that he didn’t mean to say out loud escaping in a moment of weakness. Shizuo is starting to see a pattern here. He’ll just have to get Izaya pissed off to get him to say the important stuff. It’s good to know for any future reference.

“About the dissociating, or about yourself?” He finally hisses. Izaya very pointedly looks away from him.

“Take your pick.” He huffs. Shizuo growls.

“Fuck, I hate you I-za-ya-kun!” He roars.

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know Shizu-ch-”

Shizuo’s kissing the flea before he can finish that dumb nickname, sucking down Izaya’s tongue and rage in the same moment. He kisses the raven until he feels him start to calm down- whether from the kiss, exhaustion, or lack of air, it doesn’t really matter. Finally the informant is still beneath him and he pulls away.

“Something you don’t know? Fine.” Shizuo rests his forehead against Izaya’s, matching his half lidded gaze with his own. “I hate you. But I fucking care about you too. Why else would I take you into my fucking home and keep you in my fucking bed? Why else would I come here today?” He pauses to gauge Izaya’s reaction.

The flea looks as lost as ever. He literally looks like Shizuo’s dropped him in the middle of the ocean and vanished, leaving him stunned and shivering and without solid ground to anchor himself to for a thousand miles in any direction. It’s a poetic thought, the kind that Shizuo doesn’t normally entertain. He smirks to himself with the thought that this is what being around Izaya turns him into. A being of rage and violence, but also one of deeper inner monologues.

“You piss me off. You’re a terrible person with a shitty personality. Most of the time I want to kill you.” Not even these insults can snap Izaya fully out of it. But his mouth does curve down at the corners unhappily. Shizuo’s smirk grows. “But I don’t want you dead. I can’t imagine you not being in my life. I guess that means I care about you, right? So even though you don’t care about all of this, I do.”

Izaya silently stares at him. And continues to stew in silence while Shizuo takes the liberty of kissing him some more. On his lips, his jaw, his neck. It’s minutes later as Shizuo is mouthing a bruise to his enemy’s collarbone that Izaya finally regains his voice.

“I guess…since I don’t care, but you do…” Shizuo pulls away to glance curiously down at the suddenly inarticulate raven. Izaya won’t meet his eyes, but he has the slightest blush on his cheeks as he tries to hide his face in the crook of his arm. “That…I’ll do what you say. I’ll…try to fix it.”

“Really? Just like that? That’s all I had to say?” It’s like he’s in an alternate dimension or something. Izaya blushes even more.

“No one’s ever…cared before.” He admits so quietly that Shizuo almost can’t hear him. “If you care about something, that means you want it to be it’s best, right? So,you think I’d be best if I tried to fix it.”

“Yeah. I do.” Shizuo agrees easily. Izaya flicks a whip quick glance at him before trying even harder to hide his face.

Shizuo tsks, taking hold of the informants jaw to pull his features back into the light. Izaya looks close to tears, he’s so obviously embarrassed by this whole thing. It’s…oddly endearing.

“I don’t want to think about you getting hurt. I especially don’t want to think about you dying. I know you do loads of reckless shit, and you’ll probably end up getting yourself killed even when you stop involuntarily dissociating. But at least you’ll go down fighting. You won’t willingly hand yourself over to death because you’re somewhere in the void of your mind.” He pauses to kiss the pout off those lips. “You’re too much of a pain in my ass to die without a fight.”

“How romantic.” Izaya mutters.

“Isn’t it though? You’ve always been the smarter of the two of us, and you never fail to mention it. So you tell me, Izaya-kun. Haven’t we always been headed for this point? And haven’t our declarations of hatred always been our particular way of declaring how much we care?”

The way the raven returns to not being able to meet his eyes says enough for Shizuo to know he’s right. It feels good, to be right. No wonder Izaya likes it so much.

“So, I-za-ya-kun. I hate you. Okay?” And he kisses the damn flea just to prove it, with all of the passion he’s always called hatred pouring into the action. And Izaya reciprocates in kind, even as he whines and writhes beneath him.

“You’re a fucked up monster.” He pants when Shizuo pulls away for half a second.

“Yeah well, takes one to know one.” Shizuo repeats with a sharp smirk. And he’s undeniably glad when Izaya returns it. Because that’s the most that Izaya has looked like himself since Shizuo found him on that rooftop last night. It almost feels like normal.

Except it’s all different. They’re still Shizuo Heiwajima and Izaya Orihara, but they’re not at the same time.

Now they’re just Shizuo and just Izaya. Just a man with unbearable strength, and just a man with a lot of issues. They’re just what they’ve always been, and so much more besides it.

They’ve always been these people. But they’ve never been these people __together__. Until now.

Shizuo knows Izaya is a mess. He’s a mess too. And caring about Izaya is one of the worst things he could actively choose to do, but he’s doing it anyway. In a way, it has to be like this. Because Izaya is a human disaster, and only someone like Shizuo- a human monster- could ever be able to care for someone like that.

They’ve been heading to this moment for a long time. Since the moment they met- and longer than that. It’s gonna take a long time to get past this moment, and everything that preceded it. But Shizuo isn’t in the habit of giving up when it comes to Izaya.

As long as he doesn’t back down, he knows Izaya won’t either. Because Izaya is likewise not in the habit of giving up to Shizuo. They’re in a constant battle with each other, and that battle is going to be the thing that ends up saving Izaya Orihara. It’s a disgusting dependency that could only ever work for them.

But it’s worth a shot. Because they’ve always been these people. And they’ve been miserable. But they’ve never been these people together, until now.

So fuck it all, because they’re gonna try anyway.

“I hate you I-za-ya-kun.”

“I hate you too, Shizu-chan.”

**Author's Note:**

> who needs sleep when i can be writing quality shizaya shit like this! right? right?   
> *dies of sleep deprivation*


End file.
